The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第74章

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it；　and　she　was　aridly　transplanted。　He　was　really　only　a
memory。　She　revived　his　memory　with　strange　passion；　after　the
departure　of　Winifred。　He　was　to　her　almost　the　symbol　of　her
real　life。　It　was　as　if；　through　him；　in　him；　she　might　return
to　her　own　self；　which　she　was　before　she　had　loved　Winifred；
before　this　deadness　had　e　upon　her；　this　pitiless
transplanting。　But　even　her　memories　were　the　work　of　her
imagination。

She　dreamed　of　him　and　her　as　they　had　been　together。　She
could　not　dream　of　him　progressively；　of　what　he　was　doing　now；
of　what　relation　he　would　have　to　her　now。　Only　sometimes　she
wept　to　think　how　cruelly　she　had　suffered　when　he　left
herah；　how　she　had　suffered！　She　remembered　what
she　had　written　in　her　diary：

〃If　I　were　the　moon；　I　know　where　I　would　fall　down。〃

Ah；　it　was　a　dull　agony　to　her　to　remember　what　she　had　been
then。　For　it　was　remembering　a　dead　self。　All　that　was　dead
after　Winifred。　She　knew　the　corpse　of　her　young；　loving　self；
she　knew　its　grave。　And　the　young　living　self　she　mourned　for
had　scarcely　existed；　it　was　the　creature　of　her
imagination。

Deep　within　her　a　cold　despair　remained　unchanging　and
unchanged。　No　one　would　ever　love　her　nowshe　would　love
no　one。　The　body　of　love　was　killed　in　her　after　Winifred；　there
was　something　of　the　corpse　in　her。　She　would　live；　she　would　go
on；　but　she　would　have　no　lovers；　no　lover　would　want　her　any
more。　She　herself　would　want　no　lover。　The　vividest　little　flame
of　desire　was　extinct　in　her　for　ever。　The　tiny；　vivid　germ　that
contained　the　bud　of　her　real　self；　her　real　love；　was　killed；
she　would　go　on　growing　as　a　plant；　she　would　do　her　best　to
produce　her　minor　flowers；　but　her　leading　flower　was　dead
before　it　was　born；　all　her　growth　was　the　conveying　of　a　corpse
of　hope。

The　miserable　weeks　went　on；　in　the　poky　house　crammed　with
children。　What　was　her　lifea　sordid；　formless；
disintegrated　nothing；　Ursula　Brangwen　a　person　without　worth　or
importance；　living　in　the　mean　village　of　Cossethay；　within　the
sordid　scope　of　Ilkeston。　Ursula　Brangwen；　at　seventeen；
worthless　and　unvalued；　neither　wanted　nor　needed　by　anybody；
and　conscious　herself　of　her　own　dead　value。　It　would　not　bear
thinking　of。

But　still　her　dogged　pride　held　its　own。　She　might　be
defiled；　she　might　be　a　corpse　that　should　never　be　loved；　she
might　be　a　corerotten　stalk　living　upon　the　food　that　others
provided；　yet　she　would　give　in　to　nobody。

Gradually　she　became　conscious　that　she　could　not　go　on
living　at　home　as　she　was　doing；　without　place　or　meaning　or
worth。　The　very　children　that　went　to　school　held　her
uselessness　in　contempt。　She　must　do　something。

Her　father　said　she　had　plenty　to　do　to　help　her　mother。　From
her　parents　she　would　never　get　more　than　a　hit　in　the　face。　She
was　not　a　practical　person。　She　thought　of　wild　things；　of
running　away　and　being　a　domestic　servant；　of　asking　some　man
to　take　her。

She　wrote　to　the　mistress　of　the　High　School　for　advice。

〃I　cannot　see　very　clearly　what　you　should　do；　Ursula；〃　came
the　reply；　〃unless　you　are　willing　to　bee　an　elementary
school　teacher。　You　have　matriculated；　and　that　qualifies　you　to
take　a　post　as　uncertificated　teacher　in　any　school；　at　a　salary
of　about　fifty　pounds　a　year。

〃I　cannot　tell　you　how　deeply　I　sympathize　with　you　in　your
desire　to　do　something。　You　will　learn　that　mankind　is　a　great
body　of　which　you　are　one　useful　member；　you　will　take　your　own
place　at　the　great　task　which　humanity　is　trying　to　fulfil。　That
will　give　you　a　satisfaction　and　a　selfrespect　which　nothing
else　could　give。〃

Ursula's　heart　sank。　It　was　a　cold；　dreary　satisfaction　to
think　of。　Yet　her　cold　will　acquiesced。　This　was　what　she
wanted。

〃You　have　an　emotional　nature；〃　the　letter　went　on；　〃a　quick
natural　response。　If　only　you　could　learn　patience　and
selfdiscipline；　I　do　not　see　why　you　should　not　make　a　good
teacher。　The　least　you　could　do　is　to　try。　You　need　only　serve　a
year；　or　perhaps　two　years；　as　uncertificated　teacher。　Then　you
would　go　to　one　of　the　training　colleges；　where　I　hope　you　would
take　your　degree。　I　most　strongly　urge　and　advise　you　to　keep　up
your　studies　always　with　the　intention　of　taking　a　degree。　That
will　give　you　a　qualification　and　a　position　in　the　world；　and
will　give　you　more　scope　to　choose　your　own　way。

〃I　shall　be　proud　to　see　one　of　my　girls　win　her　own
economical　independence；　which　means　so　much　more　than　it　seems。
I　shall　be　glad　indeed　to　know　that　one　more　of　my　girls　has
provided　for　herself　the　means　of　freedom　to　choose　for
herself。〃

It　all　sounded　grim　and　desperate。　Ursula　rather　hated　it。
But　her　mother's　contempt　and　her　father's　harshness　had　made
her　raw　at　the　quick；　she　knew　the　ignominy　of　being　a
hangeron；　she　felt　the　festering　thorn　of　her　mother's　animal
estimation。

At　length　she　had　to　speak。　Hard　and　shut　down　and　silent
within　herself；　she　slipped　out　one　evening　to　the　workshed。　She
heard　the　taptaptap　of　the　hammer　upon　the　metal。　Her　father
lifted　his　head　as　the　door　opened。　His　face　was　ruddy　and
bright　with　instinct；　as　when　he　was　a　youth；　his　black
moustache　was　cut　close　over　his　wide　mouth；　his　black　hair　was
fine　and　close　as　ever。　But　there　was　about　him　an　abstraction；
a　sort　of　instrumental　detachment　from　human　things。　He　was　a
worker。　He　watched　his　daughter's　hard；　expressionless　face。　A
hot　anger　came　over　his　breast　and　belly。

〃What　now？〃　he　said。

〃Can't　I；〃　she　answered；　looking　aside；　not　looking　at　him；
〃can't　I　go　out　to　work？〃

〃Go　out　to　work；　what　for？〃

His　voice　was　so　strong；　and　ready；　and　vibrant。　It　irritated
her。

〃I　want　some　other　life　than　this。〃

A　flash　of　strong　rage　arrested　all　his　blood　for　a
moment。

〃Some　other　life？〃　he　repeated。　〃Why；　what　other　life　do　you
want？〃

She　hesitated。

〃Something　else　besides　housework　and　hanging　about。　And　I
want　to　earn　something。〃

Her　curious；　brutal　hardness　of　speech；　and　the　fierce
invincibility　of　her　youth；　which　ignored　him；　made　him　also
harden　with　anger。

〃And　how　do　you　think　you're　going　to　earn　anything？〃
he　asked。

〃I　can　bee　a　teacherI'm　qualified　by　my
matric。〃

He　wished　her　matric。　in　hell。

〃And　how　much　are　you　qualified　to　earn　by　your　matric。？〃　he
asked；　jeering。

〃Fifty　pounds　a　year；〃　she　said。

He　was　silent；　his　power　taken　out　of　his　hand。

He　had　always　hugged　a　secret　pride　in　the　fact　that　his
daughters　need　not　go　out　to　work。　With　his　wife's　money　and　his
own　they　had　four　hundred　a　year。　They　could　draw　on　the　capital
if　need　be　later　on。　He　was　not　afraid　for　his　old　age。　His
daughters　might　be　ladies。

Fifty　pounds　a　year　was　a　pound　a　weekwhich　was　enough
for　her　to　live　on　independently。

〃And　what　sort　of　a　teacher　do　you　think　you'd　make？　You
haven't　the　patience　of　a　Jackgnat　with　your　own　brothers　and
sisters；　let　alone　with　a　class　of　children。　And　I　thought　you
didn't　like　dirty；　boardschool　brats。〃

〃They're　not　all　dirty。〃

〃You'd　find　they're　not　all　clean。〃

There　was　silence　in　the　workshop。　The　lamplight　fell　on　the
burned　silver　bowl　that　lay　between　him；　on　mallet　and　furnace
and　chisel。　Brangwen　stood　with　a　queer；　catlike　light　on　his
face；　almost　like　a　smile。　But　it　was　no　smile。

〃Can　I　try？〃　she　said。

〃You　can　do　what　the　deuce　you　like；　and　go　where　you
like。〃

Her　face　was　fixed　and　expressionless　and　indifferent。　It
always　sent　him　to　a　pitch　of　frenzy　to　see　it　like　that。　He
kept　perfectly　still。

Cold；　without　any　betrayal　of　feeling；　she　turned　and　left
the　shed。　He　worked　on；　with　all　his　nerves　jangled。　Then　he　had
to　put　down　his　tools　and　go　into　the　house。

In　a　bitter　tone　of　anger　and　contempt　he　told　his　wife。
Ursula　was　present。　There　was　a　brief　altercation；　closed　by
Mrs。　Brangwen's　saying；　in　a　tone　of　biting　superiority　and
indifference：

〃Let　her　find　out　what　it's　like。　She'll　soon　have　had
enough。〃

The　matter　was　left　there。　But　Ursula　considered　herself　free
to　act。　For　some　days　she　made　no　move。　She　was　reluctant　to
take　the　cruel　step　of　finding　work；　for　she　shrank　with　extreme
sensitiveness　and　shyness　from　new　contact；　new　situations。　Then
at　length　a　sort　of　doggedness　drove　her。　Her　soul　was　full　of
bitterness。

She　went　to　the　Free　Library　in　Ilkeston；　copied　out
addresses　from　the　Schoolmistress；　and　wrote　for
application　forms。　After　two　days　she　rose　early　to　meet　the
postman。　As　she　expected；　there　were　three　long　envelopes。

Her　heart　beat　painfully　as　she　went　up　with　them　to　her
bedroom。　Her　fingers　trembled；　she　could　hardly　force　herself　to
look　at　the　long；　official　forms　she　had　to　fill　in。　The　whole
thing　was　so　cruel；　so　impersonal。　Yet　it　must　be　done。

〃Name　（surname　first）：。。。〃

In　a　trembling　hand　she　wrote；　〃Brangwen；Ursula。〃

〃Age　and　date　of　birth：。。。〃

After　a　long　time　considering；　she　filled　in　that　line。

〃Qualifications；　with　date　of　Examination：。。。〃

With　a　little　pride　she　wrote：

〃London　Matriculation　Examination。〃

〃Previous　experience　and　where　obtained：。。。〃

Her　heart　sank　as　she　wrote：

〃None。〃

Still　there　was　much　to　answer。　It　took　her　two　hours　to　fill
in　the　three　forms。　Then　she　had　to　copy　her　testimonials　from
her　headmistress　and　from　the　clergyman。

At　last；　however；　it　was　finished。　She　had　sealed　the　three
long　envelopes。　In　the　afternoon　she　went　down　to　Ilkeston　to
post　them。　She　said　nothing　of　it　all　to　her　parents。　As　she
stamped　her　long　letters　and　put　them　into　the　box　at　the　main
postoffice　she　felt　as　if　already　she　was　out　of　the　reach　of
her　father　and　mother；　as　if　she　had　connected　herself　with　the
outer；　greater　world　of　activity；　the　manmade　world。

As　she　returned　home；　she　dreamed　again　in　her　own　fashion
her　old；　geous　dreams。　One　of　her　applications　was　to
Gillingham；　in　Kent；　one　to　KingstononThames；　and　one　to
Swanwick　in　Derbyshire。

Gillingham　was　such　a　lovely　name；　and　Kent　was　the　Garden　of
England。　So　that；　in　Gillingham；　an　old；　old　village　by　the
hopfields；　where　the　sun　shone　softly；　she　came　out　of　school　in
the　afternoon　into　the　shadow　of　the　plane　tre